I stopped at the third floor, leaned over the steel railing and peered into the window on my right. There was a small night light on over the bed and I could see Kathy’s head sticking up above the covers of her bed. Her face was as white as the sheet tucked up under her chin.
Bannon was lying on the floor beside the bed. He was stripped to the waist. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and regular. Sweat was pouring off his body, running in thick rivulets to soak into the towels he had placed under him.
Suddenly the door opened and a young, pretty nurse stepped into the room. Bannon was in silent motion even as the nurse reached for the light switch. He rolled in one fluid motion which carried him under the bed. He quickly reached out, wiped the floor with the towels, then drew them in after him.
The night nurse went up to Kathy’s bed and drew back the covers. It was then that I could see a series of wires and electrodes attached to her arms and chest. The nurse felt Kathy’s forehead, then checked what must have been a battery of instruments on the other side of the bed, out of my line of vision.
She gave what appeared to be a satisfied nod, recorded the information on a clipboard at the foot of the bed, then turned out the lights and left the room. I tapped on the window.
Bannon emerged from the beneath the bed. He was no longer sweating, but he looked pale and haggard, like a man who had finished a marathon wrestling match. He came to the window and opened it. I climbed through. He immediately began removing the knapsack from my shoulders with deft fingers.
“What time is it?” he croaked in a hoarse voice.
I glanced at the luminous dial on my watch. “Five minutes to twelve.”
“We must hurry. The ceremony must begin at exactly midnight. Your watch shows the exact time?”
“Yeah. I checked it out a half hour ago.” I was beginning to have second thoughts, to feel like the face on the front page of the morning’s editions of some of the country’s more sensational tabloids. “What happens if someone else shows up?”
“This is not the time to think about that.” He paused, then added: “I think we will have time. The nurses have noted an improvement in Kathy’s condition.”
I resisted the impulse to clap my hands. “If she’s better, what are we doing here?”
Bannon grunted. “She only seems better because I made it appear that way. But the effect is short-lived. Baliel must be driven from her mind. Now, let’s get busy.”
Bannon quickly opened the knapsack and emptied its contents on the floor. There was a black, hooded robe, a dagger with occult symbols carved into the ivory handle, two slender black candles in pewter candleholders. In addition there was a charred stick, a heavy, lead cup, and numerous, small containers which I assumed contained incense.
The last object out of the sack was a thick volume of papers bound between two engraved metal covers. The symbols inscribed on the covers were the same as those I had seen on Kathy’s gown. It was Jim Marsten’s book of shadows.
Bannon donned the robe, then opened a small container filled with blue powder. He bent over and spilled the powder out in a thin stream, forming a large circle around the bed. When he had completed that he drew a second, smaller circle at the foot of the bed, on a tangent with the first circle.
In his costume, he seemed a completely different man. No longer did there seem to be any relationship between the banker and the man — the witch — before me. He was no longer Bannon. He was Daniel.
“Time?” he asked, in a strange hollow voice.
“One minute of.”
He placed the candles on either side of the foot of the bed and lit them. “You must stand with me inside the second circle,” he said as he arranged the other items in front of him. “No matter what happens, remain inside the circle.” He picked up the book of shadows and opened it to a section near the back, then handed it to me.
The book was much heavier than one would have suspected from looking at it. The metal was cold. The writing, in purple ink, looked like a series of child’s scrawls. It was completely illegible to me. “Turn the page quickly when I nod my head,” Daniel continued. “And remember not to step out of the circle — not under any circumstances.”
“Look, Daniel—” I started to say.
“No,” he said sharply, turning his head away from me. I tried to look at his face beneath the hood and couldn’t find it. “There is no time for discussion. Simply do as I say. If you do not, you may die. Remember that.”
I allowed myself to be led into the circle, and I held the book out in front me, slightly to the side so that Daniel could read it in the dim glow from the candles and night light. Daniel picked up the dagger and held it out stiffly in front of him while he removed a single egg from the pocket of his robe and placed it carefully on a spot equidistant between the two candles. Then he began to chant:
“Amen, ever and forever, glory the and power the, Kingdom the is Thine for, evil from us deliver, But—”
It was a few moments before I realized that Daniel was reciting The Lord’s Prayer backwards. I felt a chill. The book of shadows seemed to be gaining weight, and my arms had begun to tremble. I gripped the book even tighter.
Daniel finished the inverted prayer. He stiffened, described a pentagram in the air with his arm, then stuck his dagger into the middle of it. Finally he placed his left palm in the center of the book.
“I command thee, O Book Of Shadows, be useful unto me, who shall have recourse for the success of this matter. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost! In the name of Yahweh and Allah! In the name of Jesus Christ, let this demon come forth to be banished!”
He turned slowly, taking care to remain in the circle, continuing to describe pentagrams in the air. My eyes were drawn inexorably to the candles: there was no draft in the room, and yet I was positive I had seen them flicker.
“Baliel! Hear me where thee dwell! Restore the sanctity of this virgin child! Leave us without delay! Enter this phial! Enter this phial! Enter this phial!”
There was no question: the candle flames were flickering. Daniel leaned over the book and began to chant from it. It was all gibberish to me, but delivered as it was in a low, even voice, the precisely articulated words gripped my mind, flashing me back over the centuries.
Daniel finished abruptly and stabbed the center of the book three times. Kathy’s head began to glow with blue-white light.
I blinked hard, but the halo remained. There was an intense pain in my chest, and I suddenly realized that I had been holding my breath. I let it out slowly. Something was hammering on the inside of my skull. Fear.
Daniel pointed with the tip of the dagger toward the egg. “Enter this phial! Enter this phial! Enter this phial!”
The light flashed, then leaped from Kathy’s head to the ceiling where it pulsated and shimmered like ball lightning. And then the room was filled with an almost unbearable stench, like some fetid gas loosed from the bowels of hell.
The light had begun to glow. Daniel folded his arms across his chest and bowed his head. “Go in peace unto your place, Baliel,” he whispered. Then came the nod of the head. Somehow I remembered to turn the page.
There was more chanting that I couldn’t understand, delivered in the same, soft voice. There was a different quality to Daniel’s voice now, a note of triumph. He finished the chant, paused, then whispered: “May there be peace between me and thee. Baliel, go in peace unto—”
Suddenly the door flew open and the lights came on. I wheeled and froze. There was a ringing in my ears. Doctor Juan Rivera stood in the doorway.
“What in God’s name—?”
I started toward him, but suddenly Daniel’s hand was on my shoulder, holding me firm. “Stay!” he commanded.